XXXVI. With cairles gefture mynd unmuvit His feim in thrang of fiercest stryfe, Nor zit his heart dames dimpelit cheik, XXXVII. In thrawis of death, with wallowit cheik Neir to return to native land, Nea mair with blythfom founds, To boift the glories of the day, On Norways coaft the widowit dame Ceife, EMMA, ceife to hope in vain, Thy lord lyis in the clay, The valzient Scots nae revers thole XXXIX. There on a lie quhair ftands a crofs Set up for monument, Thousands full fierce that fummers day Filld kene waris black intent, Let Scots, quhyle Scots, praise HARDYKNUTE, Ay how he faucht, aft how he spaird, XL. Loud and chill blew the weftlin wind, XLI. Thairs nae licht in my lady's bowir Nae blink fhynes round my FAIRLY fair, Nor ward ftands on my wall. Quhat bodes it? ROBERT, THOMAS fay, Nae anfwer fits their dreid. Stand back, my fons, I'll be zour gyde, But by they past with speid. T XLII. As faft I haif fped owre Scotlands faes, There ceift his brag of weir, Sair schamit to mynd ocht but his dame, Black feir he felt, but quhat to feir Sair schuke his body, fair his limbs, O DE ON LYRIC POETRY. BY DR. AKENSIDE. NCE more I join the Thespian quire, O parent of the Græcian lyre, Admit me to thy fecret ftrain And lo! with ease my step invades I fee ANACREON fmile and fing: While flow'ry dreams my foul employ; Broke from the fetters of his native land, Ye curft of Gods and freeborn men, Ye murd'rers of the laws, Tho' now you glory in your luft, Tho' now you tread the feeble neck in duft, Yettime and righteous JOVE will judge your dreadful caufe. But lo, to SAPPHO's mournful airs Who, SAPPHO, Wounds thy tender breaft? ALCEUS of Mitylene, the capital of Lefbos, who fled from his native city to efcape the oppreffion of those who had inflav'd it, and wrote against them in his exile thofe noble invectives which are fo much applauded by the ancient Critics. |